


You Missed

by Aitum



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Rekka no Ken | Fire Emblem: Blazing Sword
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 01:35:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13776894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aitum/pseuds/Aitum
Summary: For the heart wants what it wants, Lyndis is back to the plains where she is reunited with Rath and the Kutolahs. Frustration bottles up as she feels failing to master that one essential matter that serves as the trademark of many Kutolah warriors... or him.





	You Missed

“You missed.”

She took a deep breath when she heard him saying that for the gods-know-time. She saw him lowering the target he had been holding on horseback, and gently clicked his tongue to signal his mount to move. The horse neighed gently as if knowingly responding to its master’s request and began to turn to approach her.

The man on horseback stared down to level her gaze. There was some blissful seconds of silence as their eyes met, interlocking each other in what seemed to be forever. “I think we should...” he finally broke the silence.

“No,” she took a deep breath again. Her eyes were burning with resolve, quenching the cool, trapping serenity  his eyes came to hers with. “One more.”

Another duel of gazes.

“Please,” she parried his gaze, prompting him to tilt his head. She wondered if she took himself aback or that he even realized that he had made such gesture.

“Alright,” just like before he eventually concluded the silence, swinging his body on top of the horse in a swift, flawlessly trained movement her visions nearly failed to capture. He held out the wooden target just like what he had been doing for the last two hours they were out in the plains together.

He clicked his tongue again and the horse started moving. She took a deep breath again, feeling the death grip over the killer bow she had been holding—feeling the structure of it as if she was tracing another person’s body with all her life. The bow suddenly felt heavier than usual and she couldn’t suppress the sudden growing inferiority that was already budding inside her; yes—something that came up when watching _Rath_ making arrows to hail from the sky. Like a rain which delivered death from above upon their enemies, yet blessing to her... or rather, their army.

She braced herself as his horse approached her. Taking a stance, she readied the bow in her hand, stretching the string and finally locked the intended arrow into what he called as the kiss mark—when the arrow could meet the lips because of the position of the hand that nocked it. It was also him who informed her that a well-balanced position like that should mean that the arrow was ready for shooting. It was also him who taught her of different ways to draw an arrow, based on the fingering stances— _Eastern archers like me,_ he explained as they camped for the night after an exhausting march, _tend to use this kind of thumb draw_ —he showed her an example.

 _“And why is that, Rath?”_ she recalled her own inquiry as the clouds above departed to reveal a serenely beautiful silver moonlight which shone on to their campfire.

She wondered if there was a flicker in his eyes when she asked him. Rath was a man of few words, but her constant interactions with him made her able to picked some clues whether or not he was _also_ interested. And she hoped it was only delight—rather than some kind of frustration over her stupidity— that prompted Rath to take her hand to imitate the gesture he had made for himself earlier. _“The thumb is the strongest to grasp the string. So, using the index and middle fingers together, you close over the outside of the thumb to reinforce the grip. This way...”_ he paused a bit.

“... Rath?” she tried to find an answer in his sudden silence; her hand was still in his.

 _“... avoiding the hindering awkwardnesss when you use a shorter bow, which will nicely help when you are shooting on horseback. Releasing the arrow this way also allows it to fly further and more accurate.”_ She could hear him softly clearing his throat and then wondered if he noticed the shimmering light in her eyes as well.

And just then she saw stars.

********

 

Her passion for the vast, honest plains served as a magic carpet that rode her off far and wide to Sacae. She concluded a couple of administrative things back in her grandfather’s estate of Caelin, and set sail for the heart longed for its true home. Hector and her had a good talk before her scheduled departure, and although neither of them meant it as a permanent goodbye, Hector’s expression was a bit somber when he summarized everything Ostia had planned for Caelin by the time she left the estate under his capable hands.

“I guess there’s nothing I can do to deter you from leaving, eh?”

She lifted her gaze to meet his. His remark was casual and outgoing as usual, yet this time there was some sense of weight behind that she could not overlook.  “Oh come on now, Hector,” she chuckled, trying to ease the melancholic cloud that suddenly loomed over them. “It’s not like I’m dead.”

“You better not.”

His voice was  firm and resolved—something she did not expect from the outgoing optimistic Hector. She lifted her gaze to match his brooding, towering figure. Bittersweet warmth suddenly filled up her chest so much that she nearly could not breathe. “Thank you, Hector,” she managed to let out a whisper. “Thank you so much. And promise me you will take care of yourself too. Others probably have no idea but Eliwood and I know how much you are willing to enslave yourself to whatever business that concerns you. By Father Sky and Mother Earth, what could I do without you, Hector?”

“A lot of things,” he brushed off the concerned look on her eyes by helping her inspecting her horse. “And I bet you a hundred axe swings that Eliwood will be fussing over me! Mwahaha, what just happened, Lyndis? Why are we so gloomy like this? Go get the plains you love so much. The heart wants what it wants, eh?” he cheerfully gave her a back slap with his big hand. “Just remember you’ll always be welcome here. This is your home too and we are your friends. Always.”

“Alright,” she laughed, hopping on to her horse. “And take care of Florina for me! You know I’ll cleave you in two if I ever hear how unhappy she is while with you.”

There was a sudden burst of red shades that shyly made its way to Hector’s burning cheeks. “Heh. You truly never let me rest don’t you? Hahaha! Now that you’ve troubled me this much, of course I can take another—“ he quickly added when she looked like she was about to protest—“I’m only joking. You are never a trouble for us all and if anything I bet everyone else would have to thank you for keeping me in check. Ha! Guess this is it, Lyn. I’ll take care of Florina too for sure—but that makes the two of us.”

“Oooh, Hector!” she beamed, “I knew it, I knew it! Finally you spilled the beans!”

“Blast—must you explode my ears like that?! Hah! Now begone, you, before I send you to Sacae with this axe—or before _she_ hears me!”

“Alright, alright! You’re so sweet when you’re flustered, teehee...”

“Lover boy role truly doesn’t suit me! And you too, work hard to make _that guy_ smiles like a cat.”

“What’s that?!”

“A payback!”

“Ooo you think you can just get away with this because I’m departing, huh?!”

“And you think you can just get away teasing me just because you’re leaving?!”

“Come again!”

“Nice, a spar before a flight, huh? Good! At least I know you’re not turning weak in time of peace!”

“Weak?! Now now, we’ll see that when you can still stand!”

********

 

“Weak...”

When she came to, her own voice surprised her. She jolted when finding his equally surprised expression landing on her, and how she was laid down over a bedding in a yurt. Reddish orange lights flickered from the hearth at the center of the yurt, and judging from what she saw in the sky through the cylindric dimension of what made the ceiling of the yurt,  it was probably late as the sky was dark.

“How long I’ve been out?”

“Two hours.”

His flat, stoic reply only startled her even more. “Two?!”

“You are exhausted. There’s nothing to be ashamed about it,” he poked the hearth to share the warmth with her. “You attempted to shoot the target, but the bow flew off your hand. I attempted to catch it, but at the same time you also rushed to get it. You slammed head-first into the wooden target I held.”

There was another silence when an old lady entered the yurt. “Thank Father Sky and Mother Earth that you are finally awake, Lady Lyndis! Sir Rath brought you here,” she retrieved some bowls at the corner of the yurt and filled them with butter tea. “I wish I could do better to provide for you, Rath. You’re the Chief’s son after all. I have sent a word that you are okay, only that you will return late.”

“There is no need, Auntie.” There was a pained expression to be reminded about his origin. For these years he spent the time outside of his own people; deprived of all supposed privileges belonged to him as the clan’s heir presumptive, surviving not just physically but his spirit too: moments of mockery, discrimination—self-doubt whether his own father did not want him anymore…

And suddenly he was addressed with such respectful formality.

“Would you care for some skewered meat then?” the old lady continued as she fetched the two of them the famed steppe butter tea.

“I don’t—“ Rath was about to reply, but something else made him glance at Lyn who was resting  beside him. “… Yes, _we_ would. That would be nice, thank you, Auntie.”

The old lady took herself outside with her slow little paces, leaving Rath and Lyn together in the yurt. Lyn watched the old lady proceeding to cook, sipping the butter tea heartily. Smile emerged on her face as warmth filled her body at the same time. Oh, the beloved plains her heart ached for…

“Thank you for bringing me here, Rath.”

“Do not thank me. It’s what I’m supposed to do.”

“And at that time too, was it—“

“Lyn?”

“… Ah. Nothing,” she gently put down her cup, inhaling another breathe, savoring the freshness only after-rain smell could brought to life into her lungs. “… I missed, right?”

“Yes. You missed.”

“I see…”

“You were very tense,” he muttered before sipping his own tea. “While it’s true that you need to concentrate, it doesn’t mean that you should not let loose at the same time. If you are too absorbed by a certain objective then you become unaware of other things. Horses move swiftly. Sometimes you need to pay attention to other things—how the wind feels around you, the other presence and whatnot; I think in a way that will help locking your target for you too.”

Lyndis held her cup tight just like what she did the killer bow before. “… You are very passionate about what you do, aren’t you Rath?”

That question was truly unexpected so he just stared blankly at her.

“I mean,” she quickly followed up, “… sounds… different than me.”

“You love the plains.”

“I do, yes.”

“You love the art of the sword with a passion.”

“… and rage, but overall, yes.”

“My apologies,” Rath pulled the fennel blanket the old lady had brought for Lyn to make her more comfortable. “Your parents died honorably and I’m sure they have nothing to say about you but pride.”

“Rath…”

“Mark my words as a man of Sacae.”

There was a soft chuckle to respond to his firm answer, but it felt like an off-tune coming from an old violin that had long been unadjusted. “You are always… right.”

“I’m never a liar and you know it.”

“Of course you’re not,” she chuckled again, “but I… missed.”

“If this is about the archery training, there is always another time for another more.”

“Rath, the truth is—“ she fidgeted, “I’m truly grateful that I met you. I mean…”

“The world was threatened by darkness and I’m fulfilling my clan’s prophecy too in vanquishing it.”

“No, not that—“

“So?”

“… I came back to the plains as soon as things were settled down. Just like what I concisely explained to you in my letter prior to my arrival including placing Caelin under Ostian protection, which I thought would put your mind at ease,” she started, trailing her thoughts one by one and trying to pace them with words that suddenly nearly lost like ancient artifacts.

“It did. You are wise about it. Then?”

“And I reunited with you here in the plains we love so much. You took me in and the Kutolahs have been nothing but being kind to me, and Lord Dayan—“

“My father. No need for formalities.”

“… and your father is most accepting. He even praised Guy for his progress.”

“That kid used to follow me around with adoring manner and I just…” despite the way he said it, Lyn knew Rath did not actually hate the ardent swordsman.

“Awkward?”

“… Fun too. Somehow.”

“I figured!”

“And what prompted all these? Did I perhaps hit you too hard, Lyndis?”

“It was accidental, Rath.”

“I still did regardless. So, did I hurt you?”

“No.”

“You know I’ll tell anyway if you lie.”

“A little bit at the moment,” she bit her lips. “You… never missed.”

“I was careless,” he replied somberly. “If that’s the case today, I’d rather miss.”

“I… I’m okay, Rath,” she fidgeted again. “And that’s not… my point.”

This time it was he who exhaled heavily. “Don’t concern yourself with it. You’re a swordsman first who just came to know a bow. I am where I am now simply because I got to start earlier. Hammering yourself with doubts like this will not serve you—or your battlefield. Toxic thoughts kill more than missed shots.”

“No, you _don’t_ understand!”

Silence.

She reflexively covered her mouth after shouting at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you… go on, Rath, of course it’s nice to hear what you think. Especially when you’ve said so much and—“

“Then I’d like to understand.”

“Rath…?”

“Something is clearly bothering you although I’m glad my clansmen isn’t it.”

“I told you the Kutolahs have been nothing but kind and accepting to me,” she replied softly. “I was only wandering if… I’m worthy.”

“Of?”

“… everything,” the somber look in her face again. “It’s good to be accepted and I’m forever thankful. However, I…”

“Yes?”

“… would like to… earn my place as well.”

“You are always one of us and there is always a place for you here,” he responded firmly.

“And not just that—“ this time she wished something—anything—would just come out to suffocate her already, for she found it harder and harder to look at him, to hide all her thoughts from him. He was a keen observer, and just like what she affirmed to him earlier, her never missed…

“Yes?”

That same quiet reply which silently demanded to be answered again. “How can I have these things?” she looked down on to the killer bow Rath rested near her legs. “I have to be able to hunt with my own bow, right? That way I won’t be troubling you, and…”

“And what makes you think you are?”

“P-pardon?”

“I met you when you were being hunted down. Did you forget?”

 _Hunted again, eh, Lyn of the Lorca?_ “Of course… not.”

“And have I raised an objection about helping you?”

“No,” she wondered why she followed his questioning so obediently.

He took the killer bow and pulled the string. “You will get there,” with the same assuring firm tone he had been using since the heartfelt conversation took place, this time he untied the belt which held his sword to his trousers, “just like how I slowly got here.”

“Rath…”

“You are the better swordsman of us. I cannot help but…” he eyed the single blinking star over the cloudy steppe night sky. “… praising the Father Sky.”

“I… astonished you?”

“Or rather, Lyn, I admired you.”

“Rath—“

“Such power, such grace, such determination and a straight, courageous heart that moved a blade as well as the hearts of the people. In a way or another, the plains too… were honored to have you with us.”

“You flattered me.”

“And so did you, while I too was pondering whether I’d be worthy of you.”

“You—what?”

“You covered the front line for me in battles—clearing my vision and securing my periphery by making sure that I’m not in a locked position where I’m cornered or have my movement cut. To tell you the truth, I’m thankful for you too. I could only shoot flawlessly also because you provided the opportunity for me.”

“I… never thought—“

“… although some days I wish I could take turns to repay that. I got your back, yes, but somehow…” he paused, finishing his butter tea with a generous take. “… when danger awaited you at the front, my mind had become uneasy before I knew it. At the same time fighting side-by-side with you gave me a comfort in assurance that as long as we got each other’s back, we’d make it through no matter what.”

“So that’s why you practiced a lot until you could wield a sword?”

 “Yes. And also…”

“There’s more?” she eyed him curiously.

“… considering if I should talk to my father about sending you a proper invitation to spend some time with us the Kutolah here at the plains by the time you returned to Caelin after the war after I’m done sorting my own business with the clan including picking up where I left it—or rather, when they left me. And I am lucky because gracious Father Sky answered my silent prayers by sending you here, even before Father or I penned the letter.”

“I even thought you might regret your decision,” she mumbled. “And somehow wondered what the others might think about me because I can’t still master this bow. Of all the prided skill of us Sacaens…”

“To be honest with you, none of your concerns bothered me.”

“H-huh?”

“Because when you got here and started to settle in, I started having another thought.”

“And that will be…”

Silence again.

“Presenting you to my father if you actually like it here, I guess.”

“I’ll be honored to have a formal audience with him, of course,” she considered, “after all that it would be nice to finally feel like the Chief had approved my intention of spending time here. Don’t get me wrong, as I said before, it was already very kind of him to never question if I’d be here for a long time. But as these doubts started creeping in, I felt I’d need more than just… mastery of archery. I guess.”

“So you guessed.”

“Or did you think of something else, Rath?” her tone was gently coaxing.

“Again, only if you like it here. I’m more than aware that many people in Lycia would love to have you back, and perhaps so would some certain people.”

“Wait—so by presenting, you mean…”

Silence again.

“Well, what do you think?” he finally broke it off.

“Oh, Rath… —Rath!” she was suddenly overcame with utter happiness. Somehow all her worries drifted away like the smoke leaving the yurt to color the night sky. She started smiling—then chuckling, not long before soft chuckles turned into hearty laughter as she wiped away relieved tears that suddenly came out. “I’ve been being so… I mean, I’m so sorry for… all this, Rath, I…”

“You’re right that this,”—he cut off, holding the bow again—“is the prided skill of our people,” he strung it, and demonstrated the thumb draw again as if unconsciously reminiscing that camp night with her. “But that’s not the only thing that makes Sacae, or a Kutolah at heart.”

She did not even know where her courage came from. Her eyes sparkled again, half with delight and half with sudden anxiety as if pleading him to reconfirm everything he just said. And not just about the bow, for the thoughts pertaining it went away somewhere as she slowly pulled him closer, again tracing his face with her eyes to find an answer. He cleared his throat but did not make any intention to move away from her, and just then she lightly landed a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Rath,” her whisper was softer than the sounds of burning coals in the hearth. “Thank you for everything today, before… and later.”

“Ah.”

“Is… something… wrong?” her chest pounded. “Wait—crap, Mother Earth! Did I offend you just then? Good gracious, I did not even ask you! What’s wrong with me—no, I mean—“

“No, it’s just—“ his voice was low and equally soft this time. “You missed.” His voice crowned her ears as he lifted her chin to face him. He bobbed his head so that their lips met just as their eyes did, savoring the innocently amazed look on her face. As she breathlessly claimed his lips as he did hers, his finger gently trailed her cheekbones before letting themselves melt into each other’s lips once again.

“So I guess—the next time we’d have to—train again, huh?” she shyly teased him when they finally parted to catch a breath.

“What do you think?” he shrugged with, the same stoic manner and flat tone she had come to adore.


End file.
